


Morning People

by sallyamongpoison



Series: Something So Domestic AUs [7]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorian's a bit of a shit in the morning, M/M, Oral Sex, modern!AU, written for prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:50:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4345685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cullen and Dorian contemplate each other's approach to mornings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning People

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as the prompt "Dorian is surprised that Cullen is not a morning person. Cullen is surprised Dorian is." Then it kind of evolved into something else. I honestly don't even know what happened, but I rather enjoyed the journey.

The sound of that damnable alarm on Cullen’s phone was going to be the end of Dorian, he was convinced. It grated on his nerves to the point that on more than one occasion he’d snapped at his lover to ‘rip the fucking battery out.’ Some days, most days actually, there was little worse than having to hear the sound of that horrible fake bird-chirping and ‘delicate’ music rousing him from his sleep. It wasn’t the alarm’s fault, not really, it was the fact that if left to his own devices Cullen would flail out a hand from where it rested either under one of their pillows or around Dorian to defer the sound for another ten minutes or so. So far, the Commander’s personal best was four times before Dorian all but shoved the broader man out of bed with his feet.

For as early a riser as Cullen had to be for work, one would have assumed that he’d taken to the mornings like a duck to water. Not so. The first few times Dorian had stayed during the week he assumed Cullen’s distaste for getting out of bed had to do with his presence. It had been a sweet thought, but a short-lived one. The man made more love to the fucking snooze button than he did to Dorian before eight in the morning. Still, it hadn’t deterred Dorian from staying over with Cullen more often than being at his own flat. It would take more than an affectation of setting an alarm nearly an hour earlier than one needed to get up just so there could be an illusion of getting to sleep in longer to keep that from happening.

“Why don’t you just set it for when you actually have to get up? You know, forty minutes after the first alarm goes off and then you’re not tripping over everything while you’re getting ready. The amount of times I’ve heard you swearing in the shower that you’re going to be late is ridiculous.”

“I _like_ having that extra time in bed,” Cullen argued, the coffee pot in one hand as he poured a mug for Dorian as well as a travel mug for himself. Dorian had kicked him out of bed on the second ring so he’d showered and gotten ready with plenty of time to spare. As if to reward him, or perhaps punish him further, Dorian had made him some breakfast to have before he left. It was a nice gesture, though eating too much not so long after waking up tended to make Cullen feel a bit sick. He was never one to turn down a meal, though, so he nibbled on some toast with marmalade spread over it while he sipped his coffee.

“You _like_ lying about until you’re running late?” Dorian asked. He’d pulled one of Cullen’s shirts on after getting out of bed, and it was just baggy enough that the neckline slipped a little to reveal one bronze shoulder. They were roughly the same height, but Cullen was more broad, which suited Dorian fine. He rather liked lounging around in his lover’s clothes when they had the chance.

Cullen made his way over to the stool Dorian currently occupied so he could kiss his cheek. Even so early, after a night spent curled up together, the Tevinter looked hardly mussed. His hair stuck up a little, but there was no sign of stubble on those soft cheeks and his mustache was elegantly curved upward at the ends like it grew that way after so long. It was enough to make Cullen not want to go. “I like taking the time to wake up,” he offered with a smile before he ran a hand along Dorian’s back, “especially when you’re here.”

The other man hummed slightly for that as he wrapped his hands around a mug. That was true, Dorian knew it, but it was also an excuse. Not that he had any intention of trying to change Cullen’s mind, no more than the odd trick to get him out of bed so they could have some time before he left, but he still couldn’t understand it. Still, having that warm, strong body wrapped against his own for the majority of the morning was nice.

“Fine, you win,” he drawled before turning his head to kiss the Commander. He was freshly shaved, something Dorian frequently missed out on unless they were going somewhere fancy, and he nipped at Cullen’s lower lip a little before he smiled, “but only because you appeal to my romantic side.”

\--

On the weekends it was nigh impossible to get Dorian to stay in bed past ten. Ten was actually on a good day. He didn’t even live there, but if Cullen left him to it he’d hear sounds of dishes being done, the flat being tidied, and food being made. It wasn’t that he was lazy, not really, only that after having to be out the door by seven five days of the week he rather liked to get his makeup time in. On the days Dorian didn’t stay with him, or managed to occupy himself otherwise, Cullen could sleep until two in the afternoon and feel none the worse for it. Sure it cut down on his ‘doing things’ time on his days off, but bed was where he wanted to be.

The only problem sometimes was that Dorian could be a bit insufferable when he wanted Cullen to get up with him. His lover was not a patient man by halves, and would fidget and shift around until Cullen finally stirred only to pretend he had no idea what he was doing. Cheeky bastard. It did make him smile, though, and on those mornings he would wait until Dorian had stilled before hefting him out of bed either bridal style or over his shoulder to go have a shower first thing. It worked for them.

This morning, though, Cullen seemed to have woken before the other man. Frequently he still had nightmares about his time in the Templar Forces, but it seemed the dream hadn’t been so violent that he’d thrashed around enough to wake the sleeping Tevinter beside him. He rolled over onto his side and studied Dorian for a moment. Though the man would deny it until he died, he did snore softly. It was actually a rather endearing quality considering how much effort Dorian put in to be practically flawless all the time. He wasn’t, neither of them were, but Cullen still appreciated the fact that the other man trusted him enough to give him these little moments. One of his hands reached out to brush a hand along Dorian’s arm which made the sleeping man twitch, but he didn’t wake yet. Good.

Cullen moved a little closer and wound his arms around Dorian, nuzzling his nose in against the other man’s neck. Even first thing in the morning he smelled like cinnamon and cloves and orange, which had something to do with the soap he used, and Cullen absolutely loved it. It was a heady scent, one that made his eyes close a little as he took it in, and it promised all kinds of fun things that had happened both the night before and hopefully this morning.

Normally, Cullen wasn’t much of one to wake up and want to fool around. He much preferred making a long night of it and falling asleep tangled up. Dorian was always the one making him stir, which had surprised the hell out of him the first time. Despite the Tevinter’s casual nature, he was always up and going with an insatiable desire that drove Cullen insane. Under Dorian’s hands, especially so early, Cullen was most often reduced to a quivering mess. Thank the Maker Dorian rarely did as much on the days he had to go to work. There had been a few times he’d been woken from his dozing by a hand creeping up his thigh and Dorian wearing a smirk sometime before six-thirty, and it resulted in Cullen having to drag Dorian into the shower with him so they could finish what his lover started.

“Difendere oculi,” Cullen murmured in Dorian’s ear as he nibbled gently at his lover’s earlobe. In their months together, Dorian had taken the time to teach Cullen some Tevene, which he was learning here and there on the side to make the other man happy. It always seemed to bring a smile to Dorian’s face, which made him save it for special moments like this one.

Dorian stirred against Cullen’s chest, arms and legs curling around the broader man. Sometimes it seemed like Dorian was nothing but elegant limbs, which Cullen loved. They were so opposite: bulky and pale against lithe and golden. Dorian truly was golden, just like the sun he seemed to worship in the morning. “Hm?” came the soft response against Cullen’s chest, a signal that the other man was truly waking. It never took him long to wake up, but those few moments when he was sleepy were some of the best to watch. Cullen rarely got to see it, but he held those times very dear to him.

Stormy eyes fluttered open and looked up sleepily into Cullen’s honey brown ones. Like this, they were warm and cozy under the thick blankets that Dorian had brought over to help keep the cold far away from them while they slept. “You’re awake?” the Tevinter asked before leaning up for a kiss: a sleepy and almost lazy kind of kiss that ended with their lips parted and tongues winding together. Cullen made happy kind of sound for that kiss, and it was punctuated by another soft peck when it was broken and Dorian studying his face more closely, “nightmare?” It was a gentle question, one that required no clarification, but one that both of them hated having to deal with.

Cullen leaned in and kissed Dorian’s forehead, “Nothing terrible,” he answered, “I don’t even remember it.” It was the truth, after all, and while it could have been bad it also gave him this opportunity. His arms tightened around the Tevinter and Cullen kissed him again. Already there was a heat between them, and Dorian kissed the Commander back like he was trying to chase away the remnants of whatever nightmare he had. Thank the Maker for those kisses, too.

A few more moments of lips and tongue pressing and curling together passed before Dorian pushed Cullen over to straddle his hips and lean over him. The light coming in from behind the blinds and curtains cast Dorian in patches of golden light that made his skin seem that much more ethereal. It wasn’t fair how delicious Dorian looked in the morning, or the rest of the time even. It made Cullen lean up on his elbow and mouth at the juncture of Dorian’s neck and collarbone. He was truly fucking delicious.

“Someone’s perky this morning,” the Tevinter teased, pointedly bucking his hips against the ones he pinned. It hadn’t escaped either of them how their bodies had stirred, and Cullen growled a bit for the roll of those hips by biting at the protrusion of Dorian’s collarbone.

The arm not supporting him wound around Dorian’s waist to keep them pressed together and Cullen’s lips moved down the other man’s chest. Warm, pink lips paused at one of Dorian’s nipples and Cullen tugged gently at the golden ring that hung from it. It earned him a sigh and one of those talented and nimble hands in his hair. There was a tug, a gentle reminder of how Dorian had him pinned, but Cullen couldn’t help pulling just a little at that ring again. Grey and amber eyes had met and a slow kind of smirk touched perfect lips under that almost sinister mustache.

Another tug to those blond curls had Cullen release that ring and tip his head back under Dorian’s direction. There was little Cullen liked better than the subtle way the other man let him know that he was in charge. After long days at work, watching out for recruits and acting as a strategy advisor, Cullen loved going home and putting himself in Dorian’s hands. Dorian, the academic and elegant artist, both took away and gave him all the power and responsibility he needed and craved. “I couldn’t just let you sleep,” Cullen stated before he licked his lips. The tug to his hair had definitely sent blood racing lower, and he couldn’t help how dry his lips suddenly felt for the anticipation for what was coming.

Dorian tsked, “Ragazzaccio,” and released golden hair so he could push Cullen back against the plush pillows. Ironic, Dorian calling him that, considering the look he wore. The Tevinter was proficient in looking arrogant, and now was no exception. There was no question Dorian was in control, the hand on Cullen’s chest keeping him still was evidence enough of that, and Cullen had no intention of fighting back _that_ hard. First thing in the morning? He was pretty happy to let the morning person take point.

“You’re always telling me to get up early,” Cullen teased. Just because he was being held down, now with Dorian’s lips moving along his jaw and to his throat, didn’t mean he couldn’t push the other man’s buttons. He’d been called a brat, so why not act the part? Dorian always did, after all. “Are you complaining?”

A sharp bite over his pulse quieted the words, but Cullen gasped as he bucked his hips against the ones that pinned him to the bed. Normally they didn’t mark each other up anywhere that might be visible to the rest of the world, but it seemed Dorian was in no mood to be teased. Dorian before his first cup of coffee was not to be trifled with, but Cullen couldn’t help himself. Gentle lapping of Dorian’s tongue soothed the bite, made Cullen squirm a little for the prospect of other things that tongue could be doing, then moved lower. There were times when they took their time, moved slowly and deliberately to drive one another insane, but this was likely not one of them. Later, after they had a bit of a morning and a laugh for Cullen waking him up, would probably be more likely. This was something altogether different.

As Dorian moved lower, quick and nimble fingers hooked into the band of Cullen’s smalls to pull them off his hips and down past his knees. He’d bucked upward to make it easier, which rewarded him with a reassuring pat from the hand on his chest. Then came another searing bite, this time at his ribs. No one would see the mark there, and Cullen let out another gasp before he glared down at the Tevinter.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dorian chastised as he smirked up at Cullen from where he’d bitten him, “you’re the one who woke me up. You should get some punishment, no?” Again came that warm tongue, and whatever witty remark Cullen had got pushed down. The way Dorian soothed those bites made something warm, a different warmth to the now rather nagging heat that was starting to strain between his thighs, pool in his belly. The Tevinter was never cruel, and if he did something to hurt it was always followed with something to make it feel better. That was the rule.

Cullen let his head fall back against the pillow, eyes closing as he took in the feeling of Dorian’s mouth moving over him. The man knew him well enough to find all the sensitive places he had and use them toward delicious torment, which before long had the Ferelden squirming against the body that held him down. Every bite, tender brush of fingers, pinch of fingernails into his flesh, served a purpose to make him feel that much more insane. Leave it to Dorian to use this as a punishment for waking him up. Ironic, that, and maybe Cullen would have to give it a try the next time Dorian thought it a good idea to push him out of bed.

It wasn’t long before he could feel those talented fingers tangling in the slight darker and coarser trail of hair that led from his navel to where his cock was straining between them. Cullen’s mind had been reduced to little else beyond wondering where the next press of lips was going to touch, so when he opened his eyes and peeked downward to see the Tevinter smirking with that damnable arrogance that made him go insane...Cullen whined just a little. He didn’t normally, not just for this, but he needed _something_. That look Dorian wore was a promise of amazing things to come, but he wasn’t doing anything. Yet.

“What I _should_ do is get up and leave you here like this,” Dorian mused playfully, fingers ghosting along the inside of Cullen’s thigh, “it’s not very nice to wake a man before he’s ready, you know.”

“Yeah, because you have _no_ idea about anything like _that_ , right?” Cullen teased back, and winced a little for the bite of fingers he got in response.

Grey eyes lowered a little, just enough, and Cullen became _very_ aware of what Dorian was looking at. He bucked his hips a bit, in an effort to entice some kind of anything, and there was a pause just long enough that Cullen might have groaned in frustration. He would have, too, had Dorian not taken him in his mouth and swallowed his cock in what felt like an effortless and completely fluid motion.

A choked kind of sound, complete with what may have been a very masculine squeak, burst from Cullen’s chest. Both hands immediately went to tangle in Dorian’s hair, though he didn’t tug or pull. No, he knew better than that. Still, he needed something to anchor himself to against the feeling of that warm, wet tongue swirling over the incredibly sensitive head of his cock and running along its underside. Talented lips kept an impeccable seal, and Dorian _sucked_ until all of those sensations became one and the same. Cullen honestly didn’t know which way was up anymore, lost as he was in the incredible feeling Dorian inspired. His nerves were firing on all cylinders, sending partial shivers up his spine until he was rolling his hips into that hot mouth and begging for everything and nothing at all. Dorian knew what he wanted, what he needed, and was already doing every deliciously obscene thing to grant it. It just made Cullen feel better to have something to say.

Dorian took Cullen’s bucking hips in stride, fucking brilliant man that he was, and let the Commander thrust down into his throat. His tongue didn’t stay still, however, and laved over every inch it could get to before those thrusts started to get shorter and more erratic. Dorian was way too good at this, too good for _him_ , and Cullen tried to articulate as much. Usually it just came out as a string of curses, something that only happened when they were in bed together, and Dorian’s name falling from his lips.

“Please,” Cullen whimpered, hips stuttering against Dorian’s lips as he spoke, “Dorian, please. I need to...I need-”

He was cut off by two firm hands pressing into his hips to stop him from thrusting into Dorian’s mouth at his own pace. Again, a choked kind of sound escaped him for the sudden loss of control but not for the loss of sensation. He was being held down effectively, Dorian’s hands like stone to keep him from moving, and now it was _his_ pace. It was still a very good pace.

Another quick, mosty babbled, cry fell from Cullen’s lips as he came hard. So early in the morning, despite their activities the night before, he was surprised. Dorian drank him down, swallowed and licked until he was clean, and Cullen was treated to the feeling of warm fingers pulling his smalls back up his hips before the other man’s gentle weight dropped down beside him. He would have said something had he the breath to do so, but all Cullen could manage was looking down at the other man through heavily lidded eyes and pink cheeks. After so long, Dorian still teased him about how bashful he was after he came.

They curled back up together, Dorian pillowed on Cullen’s chest, and relaxed for another little while. It was a bit before either of them spoke, but Dorian did lift his head and press a kiss to Cullen’s cheek before he got up and set to getting dressed.

“Where are you going?” Cullen asked, his voice a bit sleepy after the respite.

Dorian grinned, “Since you’re so up and animated, I figure we shouldn’t waste it,” he offered. He bent down to pick up one of Cullen’s shirts and tossed it at the other man, “Up you get. You’re treating me to breakfast.”

“But-”

“You shouldn’t have woken me up, amatus,” he pointed out as he headed for the shower, “you’re not getting to spend the day in bed _now_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Difendere oculi" - open your eyes  
> "Ragazzaccio" - brat
> 
> My version of Tevene is something translated through Latin and Italian. Roughly translated. Like, sandpaper roughly.


End file.
